


The Giggle at a Funeral

by humanveil



Series: The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical themes, Canonical Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 02:14:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9945767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/humanveil/pseuds/humanveil
Summary: Everything changes, except their laughter.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this can be blamed on two am shower thoughts and my love for angsty family dynamics. it's 3:30 now, and i've read over it about ten times, but i apologise if there are any remaining mistakes. 
> 
> hopefully you like it!! feedback always welcomed.

**i.**

Barely six months old, Sirius is already Bellatrix’s favourite.

It’s his laugh, she thinks. His bubbly personality. He was so easy to have fun with. There was no crying like there had been with Narcissa, no _Bella, be careful_ like there was with Andromeda.

There was just laughter. Happy, pure laughter.

 

**ii.**

By the time he’s four, they’re something close to inseparable.

They wreak havoc throughout the familial home; terrorising their siblings and cousins with well thought out pranks. They never stop, not until Orion barks at them to behave, face full of warning, or until Druella comes to take her away.

All the while, there is one consistent noise: matching mischievous giggles.

 

**iii.**

They turn Narcissa’s hair a bright shade of green, and roll their eyes at each other when she runs to tell Andromeda, who returns ten minutes later, already playing Mother.

They convince a four year old Regulus that he eats cockroaches in his sleep, and laugh to each other as he runs away from them, wide eyes filling with tears.

 

**iv.**

It’s the night before Bella is set to go to Hogwarts, and Sirius sits on the other end of her bed, face turned in a petulant pout. He’s sulking, had been for days. It just wasn’t fair that she got to go while he was stuck at home for another five years.

He has Regulus, of course, and Narcissa for another two years, but it wasn’t the same. They couldn’t keep up with him like Bella could; didn’t have the same love for danger that she did.

“You’re acting like I’ll be dead come morning,” Bellatrix tells him, her lips twisted in a small smile.

“You may as well be.”

She rolls her eyes at him, laughing softly. “I’ll be home for the holidays,” she says, but sighs when his face doesn’t change. She shuffles off the bed, reaching underneath it to pull out a small box. Inside rests a small pile of dungbombs, and she pushes the box closer to Sirius so he can see.

“Come on,” Bellatrix says, grinning at him. “Let’s set one off in Cissy’s room.”

 

**v.**

When Bellatrix comes home for the holidays, she spends hours rattling on about her adventures from school. Sirius listens carefully, making mental notes for future personal use.

Their laughter can be heard throughout the home. They don’t stop until they’re called for dinner.

 

**vi.**

Sirius sorts Gryffindor. There’s a deafening silence at first; collective shock that a Black could do such a thing.

Eventually there are cheers, and he laughs along with the sea of red and gold as he takes his seat.

Across the room, Bellatrix sits with her eyes narrowed and lips turned in a frown.

 

**vii.**

Bellatrix doesn’t visit as much as she used to. The halls of Grimmauld Place fall oddly quiet.

 

**viii.**

He and James pull off a particularly clever prank in the Great Hall at the end of their third year. It turns Dumbeldore a bright shade of blue, and leaves McGonagall rattling on about detention for at least ten minutes.

In the sea of laughter, Sirius recognises Bella’s loud cackle.

 

**ix.**

They’d always been the source of fun at family gatherings, but when Walburga blasts his name from the family tree, both remain uncharacteristically quiet.

 

**x.**

Bellatrix marries Rodolphus Lestrange. Sirius laughs to himself when he doesn’t get an invite.

 

**xi.**

The field is filled with screams and smoke and the stench of death.

Order members fight against cloaked figures, intricate silver masks keeping most identity’s safe. There are flames dancing in the distance, a muggle town set alight. Burning under the midnight sky despite the numerous attempts to stop the fire spreading.

Sirius fights at Remus’ side, working just as hard to keep him safe as he is to keep himself alive.

There’s a flash of red in the distance. A blood-curdling scream, followed by a familiar cackle that had once been a comfort. Now it only made his blood run cold.

As another body drops dead, Sirius wonders how Bellatrix could ever find torture as humorous as their childhood pranks.

 

**xii.**

When Regulus dies, he slips into Padfoot’s form and goes to the funeral. He stays on the sidelines, not wanting to get caught. Narcissa is there, her husband at her side, and Sirius knows that Lucius could recognise him.

Even from the outskirts of the graveyard, he can hear Bellatrix make the mourning guests laugh.

 

**xiii.**

He watches Peter slip into rat form and disappear from the scene. Aurors come to collect him, the lot of them struggling to restrain his body, which shakes with unadulterated fury.

He can’t help but laugh. It’s manic. Crazed.

He sounds like a Black.

 

**xiv.**

They’re in the same holding room, chained to the wall and barely able to move; waiting for the moment where they’ll be shipped off to Azkaban.

Sirius screams himself hoarse, claims of innocence filling the Ministry’s corridors. Others in the cell glare at him, tell him to shut up and be quiet, but he doesn’t stop, not until exhaustion gets the better of him.

He slumps against the wall, watching as people come and go.

A relieved looking Narcissa comes by. She’s got a blond baby boy resting on her hip and a guard with keys and a wand at her side.

Sirius feels the faintest flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, she could have done _something_ that would get him out, but then the guard is unchaining Lucius Malfoy, and Narcissa doesn’t look at him nor Bella as she takes hold of her husband’s hand and walks from the room.

As the tapping of her heels fade, Sirius starts to scream again.

Three spots down from him, Bellatrix laughs.

 

**xv.**

The world must truly hate him, Sirius thinks, because they end up in adjacent cells.

The days he can get through. Death Eaters yelling about the return of the Dark Lord, he can get through. It’s the nights that drive him mad.

He lays on the poor excuse for a bed, tossing and turning as unwanted thoughts infiltrate his brain. Bellatrix whispers from her cell, quiet words about betraying blood and wrong sides and _deary me, Siri, what would the werewolf think?_

It makes him crazy. Makes him want to claw his way from his cell and into hers just so he can strangle the life out of her. But he doesn’t; or rather, he can’t. He can’t tell her to shut up either, because he always gets the same response.

Soft laughter. The same sound she’d made when they were hidden in one of the cupboards, waiting to watch Regulus fall into one of their traps.

 

**xvi.**

Their adjacent cells don’t last. Too disruptive, too volatile, too _mad_.

Sirius gets moved to another cell. They both snort when the guard trips over his own feet on the way up.

 

**xvii.**

The first thing Sirius does once he successfully escapes is laugh. It sounds slightly deranged, even to his own ears, but he doesn’t care. Doesn’t care because he’s out. _Free,_ after twelve years of dreaming

 

**xviii.**

Years later, unbeknownst to him, Bellatrix has the same reaction.

 

**xix.**

The Dark Lord explains his plan to her carefully, and Bellatrix clings to every word; her face one of adoration. She is so pleased to be back at her master’s side, so happy to have regained her title of his most loyal servant.

When he mentions the use of her cousin, her eyes glint with mirth.

 

**xx.**

The boy falls for it so easily, and she laughs along with her Lord as the plan is set into action.

She watches as spells soar around the room, as two opposing sides collide. She can’t help but think how _stupid_ the Order must be, to have let a bunch of children end up here in the first place.

She makes a point of seeking out Sirius, and the battle is as good as any.

“Come on,” he calls out, as sparks fly between them. “You can do better than that!”

His voice echoes in the cavernous room, and Bellatrix’s face splits into a grin. She sets off another jet of light, and this time it hits him squarely on the chest.

Even as his eyes widen in shock, even as he falls beyond the veil, laughter is still etched on his face.

There is a moment of split second remorse. A fleeting pause where she lets herself mourn the relationship they had once shared.

And then, she laughs back.


End file.
